Saturation ↠ One-Shots

frequency | post-aogiri/sasaki haise

Genre: Angst
Status: Edited

Another night, another night where it was difficult to sleep for him. Sasaki had such a hard time drifting to sleep, but it wasn't because of Kaneki Ken. No, it was because of a voice that belonged to an unknown person. For some reason, he had been hearing the voice every night as if it were trying to haunt him. He didn't know what the person looked like. His dreams were just pitch-black, accompanied by the voice that sounded so heartbreaking to him.

"I'm sorry," it would say over and over again. He heard it so many times that it almost became maddening to him. He would often wake up with tears streaming down his face, and would always wonder why that particular voice made him feel incredibly guilty. He asked the white-haired child what the voice wanted with him, but the child paid no attention to him. Instead, the child narrowed his eyes as he moved the open book closer to his face.

Sasaki hoped that he would stop hearing that voice. However, one night, the dream was absolutely different. The black setting changed to a place where there were many CCG investigators. Blood and dead bodies were all over the place. That was when Sasaki realized that he was dreaming of a raid.

"This is the place," the white-haired child muttered.

"Huh?" Sasaki noticed that the child was vacantly looking at something ahead the two of them. So, he also stared and was instantly stricken by shock. Ahead of them, there was a ghoul that fought many investigators. The ghoul looked as if they were struggling to fight a large number of people. Their black clothing was slightly torn in various places and because they didn't have their mask, there was some blood dripping down their chin.

While the white-haired child just continued to stare at the scene, Sasaki had this urge to help the ghoul, but of course, he couldn't. All of this was a dream that he couldn't touch. He shook his head at the realization that this wasn't a dream. Rather, it was a memory that he had forgotten long ago.

Suddenly, their arms and legs were bounded by countless of quinques. Despite this, the ghoul didn't look terrified. They were too worn out to even feel scared. Sasaki knew they were prepared to die and he couldn't stand to look at the scene, so he turned away. When the child sensed that Sasaki wasn't looking, the child's small hand tugged on Sasaki's pants, making him look at the scene again.

The ghoul was looking at something, something that they knew was looking back at them. As the white-haired child also stared in the same direction, Sasaki curiously looked as well. A building not too far away from the scene, there stood a black and white figure on top of the building's roof. Sasaki couldn't get a clear picture of what the figure looked like, but he did see a few strands of white hair swaying with the cool breeze.

Then, the next thing he heard made him feel dread eat away his existence.

"Kaneki, I'm sorry."

And just like that, he woke up completely drenched with his own sweat and tears.

"Why are you apologizing?" Sasaki heard the white-haired child question. All Sasaki could do was cover his ears with his hands, and hope that all of these haunting words would go away.

"I'm the one that's sorry, I couldn't save you."

* * *

The next day, Sasaki continued his normal routine for the days that he was off from work. Considering he had overdue books, he had to go to the public library to return them. After making breakfast for the Quinx members, he headed out the door and began walking with a handful of books.

Unfortunately, it was one of those unfortunate days where Tokyo was busy, causing the streets to become crowded with people. Being the polite person Sasaki was, he didn't push anyone to move through the streets and sidewalks. He was just too kind for his own good. He tried to slip his way through the crowd, but the forceful shoves caused him fall to the ground and made his grip loose. There he was, sitting on the ground, struggling to gather his books that he wished wouldn't get trampled on.

"Sir, are you hurt?" Luckily for him, there was someone that was kind enough to help him get up to his feet and gather the trampled books.

"No, but thank you for your concern." He embarrassingly laughed and helped pick up the remaining books. When he glanced at the stranger that helped him, his eyes widened at their familiar appearance. He was completely dumbfounded.

"No problem." You smiled as you handed him the books. There was no way you could've left him struggling, especially when other strangers feigned ignorance at his stressful situation. You waited for a response, but much to your confusion, he just stared at you.

"Sir?" Your hand waved in front of his face to get his attention, but his response was something that you didn't expect to hear.

"Why are you still alive?"

They knew that this encounter was not right.